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Authors: Emma Campion

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BOOK: The King's Mistress
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“I pray that his business in Lombardy is quickly resolved,” he said.

“You are mistaken, sir. My husband is in Rouen,” I said.

He had the gall to finger my gris-lined cloak. “Royal patronage brings many privileges. And dangers.”

“Unhand my mistress!” my manservant demanded in a loud voice.

“You are obviously a madman,” I hissed, and quickly took my leave, my companions staying close to me on either side. I do not know how I managed to reach home, my legs shook so.

Janyn’s parents tried to hide their distress on hearing of the incident, but I judged it no coincidence that they suddenly decided we must attend to some improvements at Fair Meadow. When we departed for the country in late May I was glad to leave the city and the shadows that haunted me there. Once settled at Fair Meadow I took every opportunity to ride and hawk. Bella grew brown and chubby, more beautiful than ever.

But I had a recurring dream from which I woke with a frightening sense of foreboding that carried through the day. In the dream I stepped into a puddle on my way to the market and slipped into a dark, fathomless sea, sinking, sinking. I woke in a bed that looked like my bed, but when I rose the household staff and the family abiding in the home were all strangers—and they could not see me. I did everything I could think of to get their attention, but to them I was not there.

Janyn’s return in late June did little to reassure me, though I was relieved that he looked healthier than when he’d departed and had lost the haunted look. He’d not received the letter I’d written to him about losing the child until he was on his journey home, so that was a fresh grief. He held me close and murmured sweet and loving things. Yet I did not sense in him the same intense pain I still held within my heart. Perhaps it was different for a man, not being the one who bore the child. Yet, remembering his delight in Bella, I found myself worrying about the quiet resignation with which he accepted our loss.

Something
troubled him. He seemed unable to settle to anything or to relax with Bella and me. He was impatient with the slow pace in the country and wondered aloud often whether he ought to return to London.

“But you have only just arrived, my love. I’d hoped we would enjoy riding, hawking, being together again. Perhaps planting a new seed.” I pressed my flat belly.

He kissed me absently. “There is much to resolve, much to plan.” He still believed the queen mother would be dead before Christmas. He had seen Isabella at Leeds Castle, where she had taken ill once more as she was resting before returning home from a pilgrimage to Canterbury. “They say she is suffering from an unfortunate mistake in the strength of a medicine, but in truth I believe that medicines are failing her.”

“Your devotion to Isabella is proper and commendable, Janyn, and I am sorry that she is so ill, but we have so much to be grateful for beyond her patronage. Our daughter thrives, and with some pleasurable effort and God’s grace we shall have more children. Your guild master sees much success ahead for you. And we have our love, Janyn. Your sorrow over the queen mother will pass. Your life is ahead, not behind.”

“I should meet with the guild master.”

His coolness stung. “Of course. But would you not like to rest here in the country for a while? You have been traveling since early spring.”

“It is difficult to rest when there is so much to do.”

But there had always been much to do. I could not understand why he viewed all with such urgency now. Nor why he avoided speaking of our family and our future.

“How fared you in Milan, my love?”

“I cannot talk of it, Alice.”

“Can you at least tell me whether you accomplished what you had hoped?”

“For the most part, yes. But we must not speak of it.”

And all these discussions ended with him saying, “The man who accosted you at the market. Tell me all you remember.”

Perhaps that was why he wished to head to London, to find out more about the stranger. Over and over I told him all I could remember. Each time I described the stranger Janyn would shake his head, say he knew no one who fit that description, and commend me for remembering not to acknowledge that he had been in Milan.

“But the man knew. Or guessed. And he let me know that he guessed you were on royal business. What does that mean, Janyn?”

Each time we reached that question he would assure me that it was nothing and walk away with a deep scowl.

He was home no more than a month when we received word that the queen mother and her daughter, Joan, Queen of Scotland, would be passing through on their way to Hertford Castle and we were to attend them at the royal hunting lodge in a few days.

“Why is she not staying here?” I asked Janyn.

“Her party is too large for this house.”

I dreaded it. “Do we stay the night?”

“Of course.”

“Does she want us to bring her goddaughter?”

“No, my love, this is an official visit, not a social one.”

“I do not like the sound of that.”

“We are commanded to attend the queen mother, Alice. You know that we have no choice.”

T
HE HUNTING
lodge was a handsome stone-and-timber home, at least thrice the size of Fair Meadow, set in beautiful parkland groomed with care to seem tamely wild. Perhaps it would be pleasant to spend a few days in such a pretty place. For Janyn’s sake as well as my own I set my mind to enjoying myself.

But my calm was tested immediately upon our arrival when we found that we were to be escorted to Queen Philippa in the hall of the lodge. Apparently Isabella was exhausted by the journey and would see us in the morning, after she had rested.

I looked at Janyn. “The queen?” I mouthed, startled.

“I was not told that Queen Philippa would be here.”

Something in his posture said that although he’d not been told he was not surprised, and that frightened me more than simply meeting the queen unexpectedly.

Resplendent in green silk trimmed in gold and decorated with pearls and gold filigree buttons, Queen Philippa cut an imposing figure. Yet she greeted us with friendly words and a kind smile, asking about our ride, about baby Bella, and expressing her sympathy for my miscarriage. Isabella must have told her about the latter, for I had not been with child when I had met Philippa at Hertford.

“I should like you to come to my chamber for a light meal at sunset,” the queen said to me. “Your husband will dine with the others. It will be pleasant to have a quiet meal with you and Joan.”

“Your Grace,” I managed to say as I bowed.

T
HE BEDCHAMBER
in which I dined with the two queens looked out on the park and had sufficient windows that it was wonderfully airy and filled with the delicate scents of summer. A table had been placed near the window, and a brazier glowed nearby to ward off any chill as the sun set. Queen Joan was pretty in a brittle sort of way—she reminded me of my mother, which did not endear her to me. Her personality was likewise brittle. But she was courteous to me, and pleasant enough. We spoke of children, households, the price of silk and leather, the sorts of things women talk about when relaxing together. It was not until the food had been cleared that Philippa came to the point.

“The queen mother has spoken so often of you,” she said to me. “She tells me that I would benefit by having you in my household.”

“Your household, Your Grace?”

“As a damsel of the chamber, assisting me in dressing, and, I hope, teaching me the value of money.”

As she spoke I recalled our conversation in the garden of Hertford Castle, the puzzling comment about someone like me being useful to her. But dressing the queen? She plainly considered it a great honor, but in my experience servants dressed adults. Servants. “Your Grace, I have never imagined such an honor,” I said.

But Janyn had, I was suddenly certain of that.

“In Hainault, my homeland, it was the custom for nobles and merchants to feast and celebrate together. We believed it important to understand one another. Edward and I wish to have a deeper connection with the merchant class of London. We need to understand how you view the world. Your husband agrees.”

With those words she erased any possible doubt about Janyn’s collusion. “Your Grace, I have a family, two houses, a daughter—” I began, grasping for a lifeline.

“You shall see them often, I promise you.” She rose and held out her hand for me to kiss. I did so.

“My husband was likewise delighted with you. I think we shall all benefit from this arrangement.” She nodded to a servant to show me out.

I managed to withdraw without mishap, though I found it difficult to breathe.

“Dame Alice, what is amiss?” Gwen said when I rushed into the bedchamber.

Janyn rose from a table near the fire, his head tilted in the way he had when he was trying to understand what he was seeing. “You are unhappy, my love?”

“I am summoned to the royal court. To live at court. Away from you, away from Bella. I’m to be a servant to Her Grace. You knew! You knew and you did not warn me. How could you let me find out in such wise? Why are you doing this to me?” I fell onto the bed, facedown, burying my face in my forearms and letting the tears come.

I felt Janyn sit down on the edge of the bed, but he did not touch me. In a little while, when I turned my head to one side to breathe, Gwen gently touched my shoulder and asked if she might help me disrobe.

I turned, sat up, and without speaking submitted to dear Gwen’s ministrations. Only when she had withdrawn did I turn to Janyn again.

“Is this what you want for us?”

He looked weary, and as if he’d suddenly aged.

“If the world were a safer place, no.” He held up a hand to silence me when I began to speak. “This is a great honor, Alice. Your position will be much like your friend Geoffrey’s, but even closer to the king and queen. My love, it is a wonderful thing.”

“Why did you not prepare me for this? Discuss it?”

“Look at you now, Alice, how you resist this. Would you have come had you known?”

“Listen to yourself! You resorted to trickery. I have trusted you, Janyn. I have obeyed you in all things, and this is my reward? You deceive me?”

He raked his hands through his hair, his breath ragged. “It is best this way, my love.”

“Best for you. So tell me now, did you ask the queen mother to arrange this?”

“I did.”

I turned away from him, my mind connecting all things mysterious in the past months. “My tutor? All that was in preparation?”

“Yes.”

“Why, Janyn? Have you tired of me?”

“Oh, my love.” He pulled me into his arms. I felt his heart pounding. “Oh, my love. I’ve done this for you. And for Bella.”

I tried to free myself but he held me tighter, then began covering me with kisses. He knew where to kiss me, he knew my vulnerable places and made it impossible for me to resist him. I was afire. I needed to satisfy the desire that overwhelmed me. Afterward I was angry with myself for succumbing to my passion, for seeming to accept Janyn’s betrayal. But perhaps there was hope. I prayed that I had conceived. Surely if I were with child I might be passed over for the honor of dressing the queen.

A
N EARLY-MORNING
hunt raised my spirits a little. The woodland was beautiful. But later, in our conversation with Isabella, the Queen Mother, I clearly saw that anything but gratitude for my position in her daughter-in-law’s household would be met with regal anger.

Ever obedient, I held my tongue. I suffered in lonely, desperate silence. Most painful was Janyn’s deception. I saw I was always to be at the mercy of others’ decisions. How I would keep my faith, how I would nurture my own child when I felt so powerless, I could not see.

M
Y COURSES
came shortly after we returned from our visit to the queens. I wept most bitterly and refused to rise from bed for a day, my hope for a reprieve from court dashed. Dame Agnes held me
close, and when I babbled about why I was so desperate to conceive she murmured prayers.

I
SOUGHT GEOFFREY’S
advice. He listened with a grave expression.

“The only possibility that makes sense to me is that some danger to your family lies behind this, Alice. It is not necessarily a good thing to be close to Isabella of France, the Queen Mother. There is much blood in her past.”

“You assured me I need not worry about her when last we spoke of this.”

“I know. But your situation suggests I was wrong.”

We bowed our heads, momentarily silenced.

But I had too many questions to be so for long. “In your experience, do couples at court see much of one another?”

Geoffrey did not answer at once, apparently gathering his thoughts. “If they so desire, yes. The royal family would prefer fewer illicit liaisons at court—unless, of course, the affairs are their own.”

I crossed myself.

“I do understand your unhappiness, Alice. Janyn has chosen a perilous path. But perhaps the court is the only safe harbor for you.”

“And what of my daughter? Do you think I will be permitted to see Bella frequently?”

“That will be more difficult. I think you must resign yourself to seeing her only on occasion.”

My heart hurt. “Why is obedience so painful?”

“If it were not, there would be no need to insist upon it.” And then Geoffrey did something unexpected. He took me in his arms and hugged me, then kissed my cheek. “You have been sorely tested these past few years. Always know that you have a friend in me. If you send for me, I will come if I am able.”

“If you are able. That is the sad truth of our stations, is it not? We are servants, though all see us as blessed with great fortune. We are bound body and soul to our lords or ladies. As is Janyn, and as indeed were his parents before him.”

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